


Dream of the Future

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Acceptance, Choice, Compromise, Disappointment, Family, Future, Gen, Honor, Politics, Pride, chance, change, dream - Freeform, opportunity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: For her family and country, Lianokami is the dream of the future.





	Dream of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the idea of Zenoby as Prime Minister from a discussion thread at Goldenlake since I loved the concept so much. I also took the liberty of changing Lianokami's nickname from Tammy's Liano to Lian since I think it sounds better and looks more Yamani.

Dream of the Future

It was spring of Lianokami’s ninth year and Roald’s second on the throne after his father’s passing when his Prime Minister, Lady Zenoby, once of Naxen and now wed to the haMinchi heir, commented as she sipped at iced green tea sweetened with honey and spiced with ginseng, “We must decide what should be Lian’s future come the fall.” 

“I thought that was already decided.” Roald’s forehead knotted as he stared over the gilded railing of the balcony where they were seated, across the blossoming gardens, and into the glistening Olorun. “She’s the Crown Princess and must begin her knighthood training in the fall.” 

“Lian isn’t suited for knighthood training, Roald.” Shinko, in all their years of marriage, rarely contradicted him directly, preferring delicate remarks unless her disagreement pertained to one of their three children. “She suffers through her combat training with Lady Haname. She dreads it, not delights in it.” 

“She’s my heir. Every heir to the Tortallan throne has trained as a knight.” Roald frowned, the edges of his mouth deepening. “It’s not about enjoyment, Shinko. It’s about duty and giving people the assurance that the one who’ll inherit the crown is capable of defending the realm.” 

He expected Lady Zenoby whose father and grandfather had been Prime Ministers before her to support him but instead she pointed out, “A male heir must prove himself capable of protecting the country but there is no precedent to establish that a female should do the same.” 

Roald massaged his temples as he considered this. He regarded his knowledge of Tortallan law as comprehensive but Lady Zenoby was one of the few beings in the kingdom with a more extensive understanding than himself. If she stated that there was no precedent requiring Lianokami to pursue knighthood, doubtlessly she was in the right at least as far as legalities were concerned. 

“She might even find it easier to rule in the future if she wasn’t seen as a warrior woman.” Shinko’s fan flicked thoughtfully, casting a cooling breeze over Roald. “In Tortall, warrior women often encounter aspersions against their honor, and a queen’s virtue should be unimpeachable.” 

“My mother was a warrior queen.” Roald couldn’t keep the tartness from his tone as he imagined how his mother, who had survived his father but become a shell of herself since her husband’s fatal stroke two years ago, would scowl if she heard such a discussion about womanly chastity. “Even the most ardent conservatives didn’t dare insult her honor.” 

“She wasn’t queen in her own right.” Shinko’s hair shone jet in the sunlight as she shook her head. “Lian will be. There’s a difference wide enough to ride a cavalry through and you know it, darling.” 

“Men will find it easier to accept her authority over them if she conducts herself according to their beliefs of how a lady ought to behave,” chimed in Lady Zenoby, and Roald had the distinct impression that they had plotted their two-pronged assault before ambushing him about his plans for his oldest daughter’s future. 

“I suppose you do speak from experience.” Roald pinched the bridge of his nose. From the moment he had named Lady Zenoby the first female Prime Minister, he had known even if he had never allowed himself to articulate the notion that she would be palatable to conservatives because she was eternally calm and pleasant like her mother instead of forever sharp-tongued and sarcastic as her father. She was shrewd and politically astute but the court would have shredded her if she showed it in the same way as her father. “The fact that you act like they are convinced a lady should prevents the conservatives from balking at your authority.” 

“That I’m a Naxen by birth and a Minchi by marriage also helps my cause immensely with the more traditional members of the nobility.” There was a slight twinkle in the bluebell eyes Lady Zenoby had inherited from her still beautiful mother, and Roald couldn’t contain a wry grin. 

After indulging his amusement for a moment, Roald forced his face into seriousness before speaking slowly, reflecting on every word before it left his lips, “If Lian shouldn’t be required to train as a knight like I was, what would you propose be her education instead?” 

“Send her to the university,” Shinko answered with a firmness that made it clear as crystal that she had been contemplating this solution for months before voicing it to him. “There she can continue to be schooled in diplomacy, law, languages, history, magic, and all subjects befitting a princess.” 

Roald couldn’t deny that Lianokami had always preferred book learning to combat training nor could he pretend that diplomatic and legal education wouldn’t have been more valuable instruction for him as an heir than what he had received in lance and sword during knighthood training. 

Still, he realized abruptly, this was a decision his oldest daughter should make. He hadn’t been given an opportunity to choose, but he wanted Lian to have the chance to determine what was best for the future—not only hers but the entire realm’s. 

“I agree that Lian shouldn’t be compelled to train as a knight against her wishes, but I think it would be equally unfair for me to order her to the university,” replied Roald at last. “The choice to enter the university or page training must be hers alone.”  
“You should speak with her then.” Shinko tapped his wrist with her fan. “After all, it’s your throne she’ll inherit.” 

“Very well.” Roald nodded gravely, wondering what future his daughter would pick for herself and the country—what fork she would take at the crossroads he presented to her. “I’ll talk with her this evening.” 

True to his word, before sunset, after he had offered Lianokami sufficient time to regain her wits following lengthy lessons with the strict Lady Haname, Roald strolled with her into the Yamani garden Shinko had designed, steering her over to a bench in a pavilion with purple and blue orchids winding up the wall before opening the pivotal conversation. 

“Soon you’ll be as old as I was when I started page training.” Roald began by discussing his experiences before giving her a chance to choose hers. “It wasn’t my decision. It was my duty, but you have a choice about how to best serve the realm. You may decide whether to train as a knight or to receive a thorough university education. Knighthood training would ensure that you could protect the country, but a university education would provide you a stronger background in law and diplomacy.” 

“You always say that law and diplomacy are the most important things for a leader to know, Da.” Lianokami’s curtain of straight black hair slipped across her forehead despite the bejeweled band that attempted to hold it back as she tilted her face up to his. “Would you be disappointed in me if I wanted to attend the university?” 

“Of course not, Lian.” Roald brushed her hair behind its band and kissed her crinkled forehead. “I’d be proud of you. You’re my daughter, and I’ll support whatever decision you make wholeheartedly.” 

“I’m clumsier than I should be in combat training.” Lianokami folded her silk-gloved hands in her lap. “Conservatives will be pleased if I don’t train as a knight, but it’ll shatter all Grandmama’s dreams for me if I enroll in university instead of page training.” 

“Your grandmama’s dreams for you are to see you grow into a woman capable of making her own choices and ruling in her own right.” Roald squeezed the nape of Lianokami’s neck, hoping that he was right and that his mother wouldn’t be devastated if Lianokami chose a path that didn’t lead to knighthood. 

“Then I’ll go to the university, Da.” Lianokami’s eyes—wide as Roald’s but dark as Shinko’s—were bright obsidian with the promise of the future. “You have my word that I’ll study hard and make you proud to call me your daughter.” 

“I’ve no doubt of that, my dear.” Roald smiled down at her as he combed her hair with his fingers. 

They shared a quiet, serene sunset together, content with the decision Lianokami had made for the future as they watched the sun sink behind scarlet clouds. As the final rays of light faded from the sky, they rose to return to the palace. Halfway through the garden, they spotted a cluster of court children darting about in a dance and rhyme play about a princess hostage to an evil mage in a tall tower. 

“I’m going to play the princess.” Lianokami barely finished her sentence in a breathless rush before she dashed off to join the other children in their game. 

Roald walked on, leaving the children free of the inevitable constraints that came with adult oversight. He had just rounded a corner into a lilac garden when he spotted Lord Padraig, looking as uncomfortable in a garden as a bellowing bull in a ballgown, approaching along the cobblestones. 

“Good evening, Your Majesty.” Lord Padraig gave a stiff bow that attested to the many wounds he had sustained in battle on behalf of Tortall. 

“Good evening, Lord Padraig.” Roald responded to the greeting with a polite, acknowledging nod. “The flowers made better viewing before the sun set.” 

“I didn’t come out for the flowers.” Lord Padraig’s features were rough as the northern mountains from which he hailed. “I came out in the hope of a word with you since I heard you were taking a walk in the gardens.” 

When Roald waved an invitation for him to continue, Lord Padraig went on, crisp as newly fallen snow on a crag, “Princess Lianokami will celebrate her tenth birthday soon. I don’t allow calumnies against female pages and squires to be spoken in my hearing, but I can’t be everywhere at once, and I know that slights against their virtue are made outside my earshot. If Her Highness entered page training, I couldn’t guarantee there would be no such vicious rumors about her. It might compromise her ability to rule later if her honor were questioned by the people who’ll one day be expected to obey her.” 

“I appreciate your concern, my lord, but on this occasion, it’s unwarranted.” Roald could think of no benefit to concealing what would be common knowledge at court by next evening. “Her Highness would prefer studying at the university to enrolling in page training.” 

“In that case, Her Highness is wise beyond her years.” Lord Padraig bowed again, more deeply this time. “I’ll leave you to the responsibilities of ruling, Your Majesty.” 

If grim and gruff Lord Padraig was satisfied with the revelation that Lianokami wouldn’t be training as a page, his pleasure was nothing compared to Shinko’s soft radiance when Roald found her in their parlor, calculating household expenditures in a ledger, and informed her with a peck on her peach-skin cheek, “You know Lian well, my love. She has indeed chosen to study at the university.” 

“I’m glad she picked the path that I believe will make her happier.” The feather of Shinko’s quill tickled him as she traced it across his nose. “I only know her so well because she is her father’s daughter, ever the diplomat.” 

Shinko might have described him as ever the diplomat with teasing affection but his mother was furious when she offered a similar characterization after he told her through numb lips that Lianokami would be attending the university instead of training as a page. 

“You’ve always been too quick to compromise your principles, son.” Mama’s face was the sad, angry one she always wore when she believed that Roald had surrendered to conservatives without enough of a fight. “If you even have any principles, that is. It’s sometimes hard to tell if you do beyond what is politically expedient.” 

“Just because I don’t share all your principles doesn’t mean I don’t have any.” Roald’s jaw clenched. Once he had felt ashamed that his values were more fundamentally conservative than those of his parents—prioritizing harmony over change and fairness over passion—but now that he had grown into manhood he accepted that to be different from them wasn’t to be inherently inferior. Regretting that he had responded to her wrath with a flicker of his own temper when he should permit her to have her anger when she couldn’t have her way, he added more placatingly, “She’ll learn more about law and diplomacy at the university than she would as a page. Diplomacy and law are more important for an heir to know than combat skills.” 

“She’s your heir and should train as a page.” Mama’s eyes were knives cutting into him. “You aren’t sending her to the university to learn law and diplomacy. You’re banishing her there so none can impugn her honor as they could if she became a page.” 

“I’m not sending her anywhere.” Roald, weary to the bone, sighed. “She chose to attend the university herself. She didn’t want to be a page. Not every woman longs to be a warrior, Mama. I understand knighthood was your dream for her, but it wasn’t her dream for herself and shouldn’t her dream for herself be what matters?” 

“It should,” Mama admitted after a long pause, sounding hollow as if her rage had reduced everything inside her to charred cinders. “I’ve spent my life fighting so girls could choose their own paths but that doesn’t stop the hurt when my granddaughter chooses to do the opposite of what I would’ve done in her shoes. It feels like a rejection of my legacy—of everything I’ve accomplished—even if it shouldn’t.” 

“Your legacy is giving girls a choice and chance to fulfill their dreams.” Roald rested a palm on his mother’s shoulder, shocked by how frail it had become in the wake of his father’s death. Referring to his rambunctious youngest daughter who loved to practice with every weapon she could get a hand on, he finished, gentle as a spring wind, “It wouldn’t surprise me if Hanakami chooses to pursue a dream of knighthood when she turns ten.”

“Nor would it surprise me.” Mama’s grin was jagged as heartbreak. “If she does, I’ll be proud of her as I am Lian for daring to be different from me.”


End file.
